The Promise
by dinabar
Summary: Nikki's having nightmares and begs Harry to help her. My take on the New York storyline.
1. Chapter 1

**I had the beginnings of this written in my head after a batch of hideous nightmares last week, but no end. Monday's news provided the end, but not one I had ever hoped of writing. It is the one way my brain can process it.**

**All recogniseable characters/locations belong to the BBC not to me.**

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**THE PROMISE**

It's black, you know you're frightened but you can't work out why.

TICK TOCK

TICK TOCK

The darkness disintegrates but now you know why you are frightened; you start to run. Someone is after you.

TICK TOCK

TICK TOCK

Suddenly you come across a building, it seems familiar but you don't know it.

You rush towards it and the double doors open to welcome you. It's a hospital you realise as you run in through the reception area. It's empty except for a lone girl in knee high white socks and a brown and orange polyester dress.

There's music someone's singing; the radio must be on. But it's a child's voice, it's the girl in the dress but her voice is sinister, mocking; she's singing something you recognise. It's something off the TV, you can't hear it properly.

TICK TOCK GOES THE CLOCK EVEN FOR THE DOCTOR

You spin around to face the doors. Whoever/ whatever is following you; can't get in. With absolute certainty you know they are stuck beyond the doors; they can't get to you now.

TICK TOCK

TICK TOCK

A nurse appears in front of you.

"We've been expecting you," she smiles, but her smile is not comforting. Her dress is old fashioned all starched caps and aprons like something out of the 1950's. You look around and make to run again. Something isn't right. The fear you have looking at the nurse is doubled now.

Someone else joins her, their faces leer over you, florid, ugly they open their mouths to smile but they look like they're ready to devour you. They seem familiar too, but you can't place their monstrous faces.

"I don't belong here!" you scream.

"Now now, no need to make a fuss, of course you do dear. You can feel the pain can't you?"

TICK TOCK

TICK TOCK

You let out a scream suddenly aware of a sharp pain across your belly. How had you not noticed it before? It took your breath away made you lose focus on everything other than the pain ripping through you and the need to keep breathing.

"What's happening?" you cry when the pain finally subsides.

Another figure joins the group, he's dressed for surgery.

"Ah here's the patient," he says.

"NO!" you scream. "There's nothing wrong with me," but the pain suddenly rocks you again and they make towards you. You look into the eyes of the surgeon and realise it's Mumford.

TICK TOCK

TICK TOCK

Suddenly you're on a bed, your hands are strapped to the sides and Mumford stares down on you from across an expanse of green surgical sheets.

"What are you doing?" you cry again.

"Delivering your baby of course, why else are you here? Look at your stomach."

The surgical sheet is lifted to reveal a grossly distended stomach that doesn't seem to belong to you, and certainly wasn't there a moment ago.

You look up again, and the faces of the nurses have changed and now at the foot of your bed are some of your ex's. They stare intently and one lifts a finger and points it at you. You feel exposed, humiliated, terrified.

"Get out of here!" you scream.

"We'll just pop this on so we can hear baby," the 50's nurse says and straps a very modern piece of equipment to you that immediately starts beeping.

"What baby?" you cry.

TICK TOCK

TICK TOCK

BEEP BEEP

"Any minute now!" the nurse calls cheerily.

"BUT I'M NOT…." You begin.

"NO need to scream," says the other nurse and grabs at something beneath the sheet.

The surgeon leers over at her but this time he has the face of DI Sage, his grin sickly and white. Curiously your brain notices that he still has all of his head.

"Thanks," he smiles with that boyish charm, takes something from the nurse and hurries from the room.

"BRING MY BABY BACK!" you scream, breathless with pain and anger.

TICK TOCK

TICK TOCK

BEEP BEEP

"Get this thing off me," you struggle with the wires of the machine. You know you weren't pregnant, know it with utter conviction but those monsters have stolen something, stolen something and it was something of yours.

The nurses come towards you, brandishing a syringe. You try and catch your breath but the speed with which your chest is moving and the fear overwhelming you is making it impossible.

They step closer.

You pant, mustering all the strength you have left and shout.

"HARRY!"


	2. Chapter 2

TICK TOCK

TICK TOCK

TICK TOCK

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Your arm shoots out; an automatic reflex to switch off the alarm. You're still breathless. You can feel the sweat pooling around your neck and between your breasts. You stare at the ceiling above and the flat duvet in front of you, switching on the light to look at the covers as they lie smoothly across your unswollen body.

You fight to control your breathing and push the monsters away, but this is the third night in a row you've woken up to a nightmare like this and it's beginning to take its toll. They're getting worse too. In previous night's you've just been running, backed into a corner, lost in a maze but running always running trying to find something you think you've lost something that has been taken from you. This just now was the first time you'd actually seen what it was they'd stolen.

You're a scientist you try and scoff to yourself, you try and tell yourself it's just your brain dealing with the strains of the day. But the phrase you say to yourself comes out in Harry's voice and your chest starts to heave again. You throw off the bedclothes and head for the shower.

You scrub at your hair, face everywhere but you can't erase that sense of foreboding, the sense of fear from the dream. He'll spot it too. You know he will.

Over breakfast you think about the dream again. You know it's said that it's rare to dream music and sounds. Not unusual to incorporate the ambient sounds into the dream but to dream music this vividly with all of your senses, it's rare. It's not something you're impressed with today. The relentless clock ticking and a look at the calendar. It wasn't going to take a month's worth of sessions even with the great Freud himself to work out the meaning of that one. Your time is running out. You would already be classed as 'elderly primagravida'; not a comforting term.

You drop your spoon into the still full bowl of cereal, your appetite you hoped would pick up with the food in front of you but as usual it was not cooperating. Did you want a baby? Really? You'd never be able to stay on full time at the Lyell, it wouldn't be fair on you, or Leo or the baby. So if you didn't want one why was your psyche inflicting all this baby/biological clock angst on you? It wasn't as if you couldn't conjure bad dreams from the usual every day workings of your job, and then there was Leo and his disastrous break up, your father's recent passing and and and there was always Harry.

You'd seen him give you the eye yesterday. He'd not said anything. If Leo wasn't in such a bad place you'd quite expected to watch Harry scamper off into his office and tell tales on you and make Leo come out and ask the questions that Harry was too scared or embarrassed to ask. But even Harry, annoyingly frustrating and oblivious Harry had spotted Leo was in trouble so he'd stared at you for a while, when he thought you were working. That man had no clue about subtlety you think to yourself. But of course he hadn't said anything. He never said anything.

Well not what you wanted to hear.

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**Elderly primagravida is the medical term for older (35+) first time mother, it puts you into a higher risk category for the forms...**


	3. Chapter 3

"You're looking a bit tired," Harry says as he closes his locker. As usual he has started a conversation with only the bottom half of his scrubs on. You really do wonder at him sometimes. It takes the man three days to work up the guts to ask you the question he's obviously been pondering for days, seeking inner strength or something from somewhere and then inevitably he begins the conversation not at any sane time like any normal individual, over coffee or at the desk. No; the words suddenly babble out of his mouth when he's half naked; as if taking his clothes off was somehow a way of shedding his inhibitions and the usual wall of friendly hostility that there was between you.

"I've not been sleeping well," you mumble into your own locker. Keeping your eyes averted as if modestly giving him the time to change. But by focusing into your locker so intently you don't notice him move and his next comment makes you jump. His voice and body suddenly close to your ear.

"Not sleeping well?" he repeats, his face a picture of concern. You turn to look at him and you can see him accessing his mental database of Nikki responses. You know he has one, that superefficient brain of his has filed every one of your reasons and excuses and a second or two allows him to access them and realise the last time you admitted to him about how tired you were.

"It's not that," you reassure him. Remembering all too well that time. The time the darkness nearly took you. Another time when you shut him out. "I've just had a run of bad nights."

He's still looking at you, the greeny brown eyes boring into your soul, he's thinking about something else now, working out if there's a case that's bothering you.

"I've just had a few nightmares, that's all."

"I'm an expert in those," he says, and grins that stupid lopsided grin of his.

"It'll help to talk about them," he adds, his face now all seriousness and concern, your breath catches a little.

You turn away and then mumble.

"You'll laugh,"

"No, I won't," he says seriously and touches his hand to your shoulder. You stand perfectly still for a moment and breathe in the feel of him, the warmth of his hand on your shoulder through the cotton of your shirt. You go to shut the door of the locker, but you've left the box of tampons you'd reached into earlier at the wrong angle and it stops the door from shutting, you try banging the door to squash the box in but this only succeeds in knocking them off balance and they fall to the ground with a thud and scatter. Before you realise it the tears are pouring down your face.

"Nikki?"

You scrub at your eyes and try and pick up the contents of your locker which now seems to all be spilling out on the floor in front of you as another bag topples off the shelf. Harry bends down picks up a packet of tissues stuffs them in front of your face and then bends down to carefully pick up the rest of your belongings. There's something about seeing Harry on the floor picking up the contents of your shower bag that makes the tears just fall faster but you know he hates seeing you cry. So you stare up at the ceiling and swallow hard and open your eyes wide until the stinging stops the tears from falling. You look down in time to see him pick up the box of tampons and put them back into the locker. He closes it gently. For a man his size, he can be so gentle, you used to tease him about his neat stitching, now it's just one of the things you find endearing about the man.

"You said you'd thought about having a family …one day," you say, your voice barely a whisper.

He swivels on his heels and looks up at you, a deer caught in the headlights. You know he hates conversations like this even more than he hates watching you cry.

"For goodness sake, put some clothes on!" you laugh, giving him space to collect his thoughts, think of his latest joke that will change the subject. He looks around for the top half of his scrubs but they are already in the laundry bin so instead he distractedly looks through his locker for a shirt. This is a less endearing part of life with Harry Cunningham.

"Try the door," you suggest.

Harry looks up at his locker door and sees the t-shirt he slung over the top only minutes before.

"Thanks," he says, pulling it over his head.

"You said, you'd thought about having a family one day," you repeat.

"That's what's been giving you nightmares?" he replies. "I didn't think inflicting half my DNA on the world was cause for that much of a catastrophe." You knew he'd think of a joke try and make light of whatever serious topic you'd finally had the courage to broach. He did it every time, it was almost as if it were scripted.

"Harry!" you chide and then pause. "I'm getting old, Harry," you admit.

"You're years younger than me," he guffaws.

"Yes and Charlie Chaplin was fathering children in his 90's," you say and see his eyes widen.

"Nikki, you're not that old."

"I am Harry, I am, even if I meet someone today and we take our time and get to know each other and then when the time is right we think about starting a family I'll be in my forties, I haven't got time! Harry, the clock's not just ticking loudly; it's about to stop. And what if I don't find someone today, or next week, or next year, what then, what then?" You can feel yourself getting hysterical. You knew this would happen. You knew he'd want to know what it was and as soon as you let the first drop of trouble out the rest would spill forth in a tidal wave of late 30's biology and psychosis.

"You could help me Harry," you say, your face turned away from him.

"And what about when you do meet Mr Right," he asks. You can't see him but you can feel the tender look he has in his eyes, just by the cadence of his voice.

"I've given up on Mr Right," you say mulishly but you turn to look him straight in the eye. You're surprised when he doesn't look away.

"Please help me," you say.

He takes a step towards you, his eyes burning into yours and for one second you think he is going to lean down and kiss you.

"I promise I will help you," he says completely seriously. You scour his face looking for the joke or the punchline, but none seems to come.

"You will help me?" you try and guess what he means but for once his eyes are inscrutable and even you can't imagine what he's thinking.

"I promise to help you, but you will have to trust me," his eyes have taken on a sad look, but you can't believe after all this time you're hearing the words you thought you would never hear.

"Of course I trust you," your brain is scrambling through a million possibilities of fairy tale dreams and happy ever afters but at the same time part of you is looking into his sad lost eyes and wondering what is troubling him.

"I mean if you find the sex idea off putting we could go with the turkey baster option…" you feel his hand on your mouth cutting off the latest ramblings of your scrambled brain.

"I said, I would help," he enunciated very clearly it was almost comical like the way they used to make the Red Indians speak in those old films. "I said, you had to trust me." And then after a pause you hear. "It will probably hurt." And with that you see him turn and leave. Your brain swimming with a million questions. The door to the locker room suddenly opens again and you see Harry's head poke around the edge.

"I always keep my promises," he says before disappearing again.


	4. Chapter 4

It's two weeks since the conversation in the locker room, and so far Harry has said nothing else to you. He has a firm enough grip on biology to know about timings, fertility and ovulation and you had expected him to suggest, or just to bring the subject up again. Especially now this week. Oh you just didn't know anymore. For one moment a fortnight ago, you had understood that Harry Cunningham had agreed to father a child with you, but two weeks on you're not so sure.

He's not said another word.

Was he waiting for you?

The nightmares had subsided though, he was right about that.

But you hadn't dreamed this you really had asked the man for his help, and he'd agreed, did he really need you to come begging and pleading and produce a calendar for him. The more time went by you suspected that what he was actually planning on was something entirely different.

He's been seemingly more conscientious at work. Even Leo has noticed and he hadn't noticed anything much for weeks. Well only the things he could claim they had done wrong so he could vent some of his anger by shouting at the pair of them.

"Do you fancy getting some dinner tonight?" you ask trying not to sound as if you're begging.

"What out?" he replies without looking up.

"Does it matter?" you reply. You hate these cryptic conversations.

"Sorry I'm busy tonight," he replies and looks up at you briefly.

"Oh," you hear yourself say disappointedly. "Did it matter then?"

"What matter?"

"Matter if it was out or in?"

"Hunh?"

"What about the weekend?" he suggests after a long pause.

You know the weekends are always busy and you also know for a fact he's on call, so will very likely have to cancel at the last minute.

"That sounds great," you lie and smile and watch his mouth smile back at you. His eyes still have that sad look, they acquired a fortnight ago.

It's a month, two months it's easy to keep track of that anniversary. You never have had that dinner out. He keeps giving you bizarre things, a Lyell Centre keyring being the most odd, DVD's he thinks' you'll enjoy and a CD. His behaviour is certainly strange, his shirts louder and then he started disappearing for long weekends. He said it was to take care of his mother after a fall, but you know that's not true. You felt bad about phoning her, but if she had had a fall you could have genuinely been calling to give your best wishes, not to check up on her son.

As the months passed instead of a new life beginning to grow inside you a seething ball of disappointment and resentment begins to grow. Spreading like a tumour and infecting even the most common place of conversations. You'd seen him today, staring at you from behind his screen. When you looked up, you saw his hand dart across his eyes and then heard him say.

"I do keep my promises Nikki," before disappearing into the cutting room for the afternoon.

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**So what do you think? I've never written anything so fast, so hope it's ok. The rest up tomorrow I hope.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Happy summer and happy birthday to all concerned, I'm guessing this is all the mystery of twitter not just me being oblivious as usual. I'm internet free for a bit, just had to get this up before I went, so don't think I don't love you it it's quiet; you know I love all my wonderful reviewers. All the best too for those with exam results looming. BTW you may need a tissue especially by chapter 7….**

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You can't believe it. Four months after THAT conversation; where for one brief moment you thought your complicated relationship would finally be uncomplicated and now Harry Cunningham has the gall to stand up in the afternoon's team meeting and casually slip into the conversation that he is leaving and taking up a professorship in New York.

The list of expletives that came into your mind was long and detailed but fortunately the shock had momentarily dissociated your tongue from the rest of your body and so Leo wasn't privy to the explosion. But you knew Harry knew; he had studiously avoided your eyes during his little revelation. You could tell he'd rehearsed the speech, pulled it off word perfectly. Even the bit about missing everyone, and how fondly he'd remember his time at the Lyell.

Bloody bastard.

You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, you stumbled from the room and grabbed your bag, heading out into the light and away, anywhere away from there, from him. From him. You could hardly see through the tears and stepped into an oncoming cyclist part way across campus who swore at you, but instead of crumpling in a heap on the floor you kept going. The coffee shop on the far side, shining like an oasis of calm.

How could he?

You bluster to the counter and open your mouth but nothing comes out, fortunately the barista recognises you.

"One skinny latte, and an Americano?" she asks.

Your mouth opens again, stung by the fact that this will no longer be your regular order when that unfeeling AMERICANO leaves you. "Just the latte," you manage to bleat.

The only seats left are at the bench at the window. You don't really want to be in full view of the world, but it's unlikely Harry's going to be coming after you. Your breath hitches again at this point. He is never coming after you; never again. And Leo would never think to look here.

You drop your bag and keys onto the counter and idly flick through the London paper and glance at the latest medal tally and photo's of teary eyed competitors. They think they have something to cry about? You shake your head; you could teach them. You become aware of a man taking the stool next to you, he has light hair and the way he walks sets off the 'geek alert' signal in your brain. You feel the tears threatening at your eyes again so turn over the page, to look at yet more teary eyed twenty something's proudly displaying their virility.

"It's all a bit of a fuss eh?" the man said.

You look up but don't reply.

"I mean no other shellfish get this sort of treatment," he continues.

"I beg your pardon," you reply totally confused but sucked into the conversation.

"I mean what makes limpets so special?"

You look nonplussed and he continues. He has a kindly face you notice, definitely a geek and he could certainly do with a wardrobe overhaul, but a kind face.

"I mean every four years they get the limelight, what about the mussels, clams, barnacles, oysters? All this fuss over limpets!" he shakes his head and points at the paper.

"I think you mean Olympics!" you say and can't help the smile that creeps on your face. "That is an AWFUL joke."

"Made you smile though," he replied. "My name's John."

"Nikki, Nikki Alexander." You smile in spite of yourself. Your world ended about five minutes ago and now there is a smile on your face. What is wrong with you? The smile vanishes.

"Pleased to meet you," says John and holds out his hand to you. You shake, noting his hand is firm, not weak and slimy as you expected.

You lapse into silence and you stare out the window for a bit.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" you ask, unsure what to say next.

"Oh, no I'm an out of work banker who got fired when the City went up the Wazoo last…"

You can't believe you've been so insensitive so you interrupt. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, I'm sorry…"

Now it's your turn to be interrupted.

"It's fine," John smiles, he has a good smile, his whole face lights up when he smiles you notice and although he's obviously shy, you can tell he's really trying hard and so you cut him some slack.

"Sorry," you say and smile.

"I could ask the same about you?"

"Me?" You reply. "Me, I'm hiding. I just found out my partner is leaving me."

"Oh, Nikki, now it's my turn to be embarrassed, I'm sorry I'm really sorry."

"Oh no, no it's not like that, it didn't come out right. My colleague, we've been together a long time, eight years. He's got another job. I just found out. He's moving to New York," you explain.

"You're going to miss him," John says sagely.

"Yes I am," you admit and down the last of your latte.

"It was nice to meet you John, thanks for cheering me up," you say, grabbing your bag off the table and getting up to leave.

"I'm not really a banker," John says as he gets to his feet too in a gentlemanly gesture. "I used to be a teacher, but now I write children's books. I like to come here, and get inspiration for my characters."

"I hope you don't use me," you reply.

"Of course not," he blushes slightly. "It gives me somewhere to hide too," he admits.

"Maybe I'll see you here again then," you say.

"I'd like that," John replies and holds out his hand to you again.

You take your bag, and walk out of the shop, pausing to wave at the man in the window. He waves back and smiles, for a second you feel lighter, peaceful he'd been really pleasant, not at all cringy and actually not that geeky but your next thought is of Harry and the despair is so heavy it feels difficult to place one foot in front of the next to make it back across campus to the Lyell Centre.

You're within sight of the building now, and routing through your bag to find your keys and pass card, your stomach has already plunged when they are not to be found in any of the usual places in your bag when you hear the sound of someone running up behind you. You can hear them fighting for breath, obviously unused to running.

"Nikki," you hear gasped from the runner behind.

You stop and turn only to see the man from the coffee shop, red faced and obviously out of breath, holding up your keys on their stupid, or now it would seem less than stupid Lyell Centre keyring.

"You left them on the table," John gasps out, "they were under the paper."

"Thanks so much," you say, taking the keys from his hand and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

He blushes scarlet and puffs out "You're welcome,"

"Thanks so much," you repeat, not quite sure what to do now, and watching John's shoulders heave as finally catches his breath.

"You should think about taking some exercise," you say.

"Oi!," he laughs, "I just did, didn't I?" and you laugh again. And now you're laughing? How you can still laugh when just a flight of stairs away is the man preparing to abandon you, the one man you thought of all the men you had known in your life that would never leave you. And to leave now; after what he had promised you. Your stomach churns and you feel sick, the hot coffee aggravating the nausea.

John obviously notices the change in your demeanour and looks shyly down at his feet.

"John," you say. He looks up and his eyes look like a little boy's who's been offered a chocolate.

"How would you feel about me taking you out for a drink later, to say thank you. Coffee, beer…" you tail off.

John is looking like a boy who's not only been offered one chocolate but the whole box. "I'd really like that," he stammers. "What's your number?" He pauses and looks back at his feet and then back up to you again. "It's ages since I've asked someone that," he confesses.

You like his honesty, his openness and you write down your mobile on the back of your business card and hand it over. He types it into his phone and rings it, transferring his number to your phone.

"So I'll call you about 5:30, there's no way I'm staying late tonight," you say.

"I'll talk to you then," he smiles and turns back the way he has come.

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**I can't take credit for the limpets joke it was in a book I was reading with my son 'Hooey Higgins goes for gold' by John Voake, it's totally crazy but a good laugh. I know, I know I can feel the hate….just bear with me a bit longer.**


	6. Chapter 6

You look through the glass at Leo, he is leant back in his chair, holding something in his hand and smiling. You're pleased he can smile now, he's finally over Janet. But you've not seen that particular smile for a while, you try and place it. It's certainly not an autopsy report he's reading, and it's not an email as he's not looking at the computer. It's been a long six months. You were distraught of course when Harry left all that time ago, but your fury and anger went a long way to numbing the pain of his absence. Leo however was lost. He'd broken up with Janet on his terms, Harry had left him and Leo could find no sense, no reason for it whatsoever and it had shaken him. Harry had been with him before Theresa and Cassie had died and now he was gone too. She suspected they communicated but Leo never let on if he did.

You wondered what had made you think of Harry today, not that you didn't think of him often; you couldn't keep coming to the same place you shared together for eight years without thinking of him. There was something in Leo's smile perhaps; it was just the way he looked when Harry told a joke.

You stood up, adjusting the waistband of your trousers that were cutting into the itching skin on your stomach and walk over to Leo's office. You knock on the door and go in without being asked.

"What's up?" you ask.

Leo's smile vanishes instantly and he shoves the handwritten papers into his lap. He's not quick enough though and you recognise the handwriting instantly.

"How is he?" you ask, surprised slightly at the genuine concern you feel, it's the first time for a long time you haven't just felt infuriated at his running away. For that is what you know he has done. He has run away from you.

"Nikki!" Leo blusters. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine Leo, you know I'm fine. You're the one with the 20 week scan picture on your desk not me!" you smile.

"I know, but but," Leo stutters.

"How is he?" you ask again.

"He says they don't understand his jokes."

"Of course they don't, bloody fool. I can't imagine why he ever thought they might."

Leo gives a slight cough of a laugh. He looks at the pile of papers badly concealed in his lap and pulls out a white envelope.

"He sent this for you." He looks up at you and holds out the envelope. You see your name on it in that once so familiar handwriting.

"Why has he sent it to you?" you ask tentatively reaching forward with your left hand but not yet clutching the envelope. The ring on your finger flashes in the light of the Leo's desk lamp.

"He wanted me to make sure you got it, and read it." Leo admits.

"What? He thinks I might tear it up, or never even open it if he sends something direct to me?" you ask.

"Something like that," Leo says and you realise he is right. You would have put it straight in the bin.

Leo gets up from his chair, and bustles you into it.

"Read it please," he says.

"Do you have to report back?" you ask slightly cruelly.

Leo doesn't answer, but you know Leo and you know Harry, well you did know Harry. You're sure he'll be expecting a report from Leo. But Leo closes the door behind him and leaves you alone in his office with your letter and a box of tissues that he has put in the middle of his desk, just in front of the picture you got from the hospital the week before.

You take a deep breath and open the envelope.

Inside is a handwritten letter on NYU letterhead.

You take a deep breath and begin to read.

* * *

**Ok so most of you won't have a scan picture to look at, but I would advise the tissues….**


	7. Chapter 7

Dear Nikki,

I know you are angry at me, I know even now you are in half a mind to throw this letter in the bin and stay angry. I know that you will be sitting forward in Leo's chair, your brow furrowed and probably biting down on your finger and I know that if I was in your position I would be livid. But please read this for me, I need you to understand why I have done what I have done. I know you think I am a coward and that I have run away, that I have left you like every other useless man in your life and in many ways I have done all of those things but I need you to trust me one last time. Trust me to explain that I have not run away. Trust me to explain that I have not broken my promise to you.

This last year has been the most painful in my life and I know you will not pity me, because I know I have caused you such unbearable pain. There have been so many times when I wished I could go back and change the course I set over a year ago and come flying back to London, back to you and change what I have done but please be patient with me and listen to my reasons. The reasons that keep me here despite every part of my being longing to be back there with you. You asked me to help you Nikki, begged me and I want you to know how I have kept that promise.

There was a moment back on that day when I first made you that promise when I imagined our life together, the two of us, together happy and in love and with a child of our own to love and care for. But it was just a fleeting vision. You and I were just never meant to be. I can hear you now, shouting me down, calling out 'how dare he make that decision for me, what does he know? What gives him the right?' I can hear your arguments clearly, I have replayed them over and over. Yours is the voice I hear in my head, the one that challenges me, guides me and that in my weaker moments I pretend laughs at the jokes I make here, that the Yanks never get.

We are the same Nikki, we share the same hurts, the same disappointments, the same fears. And we would have still fought. Having sex with you would have been incredible but it would never change who we are and we would have still fought Nikki and we would have driven each other mad. A solid relationship needs a balance, a flattening of the waves, where one partner peaks the other needs a trough to counteract it, opposites attract and all that. But you and I, we are more like twins; we share our peaks and our troughs, our working together and living together would set these into resonance and although the good times would be twice as good as anyone else's the waves combining and doubling their height, our lows would be so low and you above anyone do not deserve that. You do not deserve to be stuck with me.

Your knowledge of science will also tell you the effect of resonance on a delicate system. It shatters; it blows itself apart from the very inside. I couldn't let that happen to us Nikki, nor our child. I couldn't bear to be the cause of that and so in a moment's hesitation where I first imagined I might be experiencing the first of many kisses with you; I made up my mind to leave.

You know what I have feared in all my relationships, my abhorrent temper, the fear that I would hurt the one closest to me just as my father had done before me. But as I looked at us that day I realised I had hurt you in a far worse way than I had ever imagined possible. For years we had dangled on the brink of a relationship and because of my cowardice we had never ever moved on further. But those years had robbed you of your youth, robbed you of the opportunity to seriously look for someone else, robbed you of the incentive to find someone because I was always there and there was always that possibility.

I am so sorry Nikki. I have become what I feared. I have hurt the one person I loved the best and I wasn't even aware of it at the time. It made me sick to think of what I had done, and so I resolved to find a solution; I had to leave.

Leaving should have been easy, talk to some old colleagues, pull a few strings find a job far enough away so I couldn't run back when my resolve cracked. But all the while I had to watch you. Your eyes shone that day, you had thought I had promised you something else and my heart shattered as I watch you lose your faith in me. As I acted so arrogantly and brashly around you. I know you caught me crying on more than one occasion, I know you know how painful this was because I know you felt it too after I had gone, and you didn't even know the reason why. So I tried to prepare you for my leaving, gave you those ridiculous gifts and picked fights so you wouldn't remember so many of our good times. We were good, you and me at times we were so good.

And then there was plan B. Just leaving wouldn't work, wouldn't keep the promise of achieving the happiness and the child you had claimed you wanted. So I began to search. It's very common in many countries, parents or relatives finding suitable matches for their offspring. I had to try Nikki, because I knew the state you'd be in when I left and I didn't want you hooking up with another no hope bastard who would treat you badly so I resolved to find you your perfect match. To look for your Mr Right.

I needed someone completely different to your usual diet of losers and to me, we might be twins but what you needed was a mirror image, someone that would match, someone that would counteract life's ups and downs with you. Someone in fact the complete opposite of me. So I contacted the dating agencies explaining I was searching for someone for my shy sister. That didn't go down well, so after a while I just told them you were my best friend and let them think I was gay. I met dozens of men Nikki, I had interview questions and everything. I was determined to find you the Mr Right you had given up on because of me.

And I found someone, he was shy where I was direct, he was optimistic where I would be pessimistic, he was artistic rather than scientific, he was well balanced where I was always unstable and he was handsome in a boyish way and funny, he wanted a family but most of all Nikki he had a young heart. I have always felt older than my years, forced to grow up too early, spending even early childhood surrounded by adults and then made the man of the house by default before making it to my teens. I needed someone who I knew would make you happy Nikki and after searching and searching I really thought I had found him. I haven't fully explained the situation to him. Only that he was to be on campus of the day I was due to break the news of my departure. I knew you would run and it would enable the chance meeting. I couldn't push things any further of course I could only set the wheels in motion. But it was my way of keeping my promise to you. You had asked me to help you and I had told you to trust me, and I had told you that it would be painful.

I had guessed you would run to the coffee shop and had primed John in advance and I had also guessed that as usual you would throw your stuff and bag down and that there was a fair chance of you leaving something behind. It was one of the reasons I gave you that key ring. But even I couldn't have expected you to have left your keys behind that day. My plan had been to give him an outline of your timetable and hope for another 'random' encounter. He really was painfully shy and nervous but I told him how beautiful you were and he said he was prepared to give it a go. I really like him Nikki. He was terrified but at least he has courage.

And so Leo has told me your news, and now I need to tell you how I have kept my promise to give you all you ever dreamed of. I have moved aside and put you in the path of a caring man who will love you and your children, who has the flexibility of hours to enable you to keep working if you wish and who will never embarrassingly burble on at social functions about stomach contents or fecal swabs.

I know you will find this hard to believe, even Leo does not know all that I have done. I know that you are still angry with me and rightly so. I know that even now you are blowing a piece of hair out of your eyes so that you can read this. Oh Nikki, my darling darling friend, I miss you so much. I do love you in my own way, but it would never have been enough to make us both happy and I know if you are honest with yourself you will know this is true too. I am so happy to hear about your engagement to John. I so wanted him to be the one and not just a rebounder. I am even more delighted about your other news. You have all you ever wanted and I am proud that in some small way I played a part in that.

At least I can say that I am proud that I kept my promise to you. Relieved that you are able to trust me and that although I did leave you, I did it because you needed to move forward without me dragging you down. I did not run away I had to haul myself away from you, and every step was harder than you could ever imagine. Maybe one day I will also be worthy of your forgiveness.

And now I have to say goodbye to you again, ask me anything and I will always be there for you. You will always be my truest friend. There is one caveat to that though, you will need to ask Leo to give you away at your wedding, as happy as I am for you, that is one service I cannot do for you. Please let me know that you have read this, Leo knows all my details and one day when this is less raw come and visit. Perhaps now this is finally written and you know the truth I too will be able to move on.

I am sorry this has had to hurt so much and I apologise if the ink is smudged a bit, I'm afraid to say you have caught me crying yet again.

Congratulations on your engagement and with your pregnancy.

My every good wish and with much love,

Your

Harry

xxx


	8. Chapter 8

The letter is shaking in your hand, you reach out for the tissues that Leo has placed within your reach.

Part of you is shocked.

Part of you is furious.

Part of you is overwhelmed at his sacrifice and the love he has shown.

You don't know how long you sit there staring straight ahead.

It's only after a while you realise you're staring at the picture of your baby.

'Harry found John for me,' you think. You think back to your first meetings. He can't take credit for everything, he just started the ball rolling like he said.

But you would never have chosen someone like that initially.

You had become friends before you even realised and then things just naturally took their course.

John hadn't been pushy, quite the opposite in fact.

What had happened?

Had it changed anything?

And John knew Harry! Somehow that thought makes you smile.

You sit back suddenly in the chair and the baby in your belly rebels against the sudden change of shape to its dark little world.

Your world has changed too, but actually it has changed for the better. The anger and hatred you have held onto for so long have just been released. Your world is brighter, lighter, reshaped too.

You notice the door open and Leo poke his head around. He'd obviously prepared himself for finding you upset and is obviously surprised.

"Nikki?" he says simply.

You look up; he was obviously expecting you to be a total mess. He is surprised to see something else: thankfulness, wonder and finally peace.

"He kept his promise," you reply and smile even as the tears roll down your cheeks.

"He kept his promise!" you repeat.

* * *

**Well there you go. Sorry it was sad, but hey we were crying anyway. And I know this doesn't follow the supposed ATIFIL get together and split but that just seemed too cruel. Hope it gives you and them some peace. Shalom babayit-peace in this house as some dear friends used to say. And a cyber shout out to my own darling friend in NY. As always I love comments and any questions I'll be back soon.**


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